Bound To You
by TheOnlyPotato
Summary: It had happened before; they had kissed each other to make sure they were real. It usually only happened when the nightmares were terrible and the touch wasn't enough to make one or the other believe that they weren't in the arena, believe that they were alive. Rated M for later chapters, possible HaymitcxOC {{Chapters posted every Sunday}}
1. Prologue

**A/N: So, before I begin I would like to say this story is all about being in an Alternate Universe. For Instance: Prim is never reaped. Due to the fact that Prim is never reaped, Katniss never wins with Peeta. Due to the fact that Katniss never wins with Peeta, a new OC wins the 74th for 12. Due to the fact that this OC wins the 74th, The Victor Games never happen. Due to the fact that the Victor Games never happen, the Rebellion never happens. And do to the fact the Rebellion never happens, Snow stays in reign and the Hunger Games continue on. Why, you ask? Because I like having OC's ^-^ and it also benefits the story. **

**Now with that said, you may be wondering: So if the trilogy just basically never happened, what did?**

**OC#1 (our main character, who goes by the name of Ivy Hayes) wins the Games for 12 (woo hoo). Ivy Hayes, a.k.a new female Victor, goes on to mentor for the Quell. That's it. You have to read to find out the rest. Onward and forth!**

**P.S. This used to be a Gale/OC fic, but I found more inspiration here so... Sorry ^-^**

**Prologue**

Dark. That's what registers first in the back of her mind. Everything is so terribly dark, it's a wonder she can see his sleeping form. The tributes small body is outlined on the forest floor, his breathing even and steady. He is snoring lightly, and she pities him. At least she would get it over with; if the Careers had found him he would be dead.

She rolls him over on his back and his eyes flutter open for a second, but shut again quickly enough. He's only twelve; he doesn't understand that sleeping on the floor could bring him such a painful death, anyway you roll the dice.

Picking up the poisoned concoction she had made, she uses a dropper to put a few drops in his already open mouth. The reaction is instant. His breathing quickens and his eyes fly open, crazed and already dripping blood. His hands scratch at his throat as he struggles to breathe. It looks like asphyxiation, but the two tributes know better. He's been poisoned with Lenadine, a deadly concoction which – when made right – causes a slow, painful, suffocating death. She smiles at him gently and closes his blood-filled eyes.

"Go to sleep, darlin. It's all over," she says, her voice sweet with affection and a tinge of accent that isn't quite Capitol. The boy eventually stops struggling, and she barely notices the knife that had been lying carelessly beside him.

"Oh you poor, poor, baby," she says, picking it up. "If you had a chance, you probably would have killed me, wouldn't you?" She knows she's talking to no one in particular as she searches his meager supplies – socks, a blanket, a water bottle empty of water, and a few drops of iodine as well as the knife he had on him – but can't seem to care. Leaving everything else besides the iodine, she stands uneasily and stares at his purple-tinged face, his backpack lying gently under his mess of red curls.

Her own pack is full with things she had robbed of the tributes she had killed in their sleep, as well as a few things she had snagged from the Cornucopia. A trusty scythe was one of them, as well as a hakapik used only for the tributes that _just wouldn't go to sleep_.

The canon booms, startling her. She had to move quickly, before someone got too curious. Deciding against moving along the trees, she begins to escape into the shadows away from the murderous death, towards the Career pack. They would be sleep by now, all of them thinking she had been on watch. And technically, she had. Just not on watch for them. The girl knew that since she had very low chances of sticking around with them for long, seeing she was District 12 and on the rare occasion those tributes from her District made it into the Career pack; they were killed as soon as all the other tributes were dead.

She knew better, though. She knew that now that Faustinus was dead and she had gotten rid of that stupid boy from District 4, that it only left the duo from 11 and that girl from 5, and as soon as they were gone… well, she'd be hightailing it out of there.

Deciding that killing her ex-best friend and a twelve-year-old boy was enough for that night, she settles down inside of the Cornucopia, where Glimmer and Clove were sleeping soundly. She considers offing all them, right there in their most vulnerable point, but decides against it.

Her time would come, just not now.

"Ivy," A sharp voice commands, drawing the sixteen-year-olds attention. She had been practicing with her scythe, moving it with expertise in swift motions. But now it clanged to the ground, surprise at hearing her name. She hadn't heard her name since the interviews; they always called her '12'.

"Yes, Cato?"

"Did you leave camp last night?" She glances at his muscles, rippling in the forest heat. To lie and answer no would bring anger and suspicion. To tell the truth and answer yes would bring anger and cruel names.

"Why?" She counters, feeling a bit bold. He stares at her.

"Four died last night. And from what I can gather, your poison vile is a little low," he gestures at the purple liquid hanging on her belt. It fizzes and bubbles in the small container, its acidic contents occasionally burning the bottom of the lid.

"Well yes. I figured you guys would be alright, the others are way too smart to even dare get near camp-" Not entirely true. She had seen 5 stealing apples and supplies countless times, and had let it slide. "-So I figured a little evening murder couldn't hurt anybody but my victims, right?" She awaits a hit – like Clove and Glimmer had received a million times before, for stepping out of line – but gets nothing but a lopsided grin.

"They don't call you Poison Ivy for nothing. Good job, its one tribute down and we're all still very much alive so… I'll let it slide this time. But, if you leave camp without my permission again I will hunt you down and kill you with your own poison, got it?"

"Yes, Cato," she mumbles. He smiles at her, and spits on his sword.

"Okay, let's go. I want to get rid of 11 before the day is over. Marvel, you, Clove and Glimmer go look for the kid. I want to handle Thresh with my secret weapon." He winks at Ivy and she feels bile rising in her throat. Clove and Glimmer share disgusted looks – Marvel was known for grab-assing or getting a little too feely when he was bored – before they each slap her on the back respectively. Glimmer lowers her eyes and voice gently.

"Look, you remember our plan right?" She asks, so no one can hear but them. Never good at whispering, Ivy silently nods.

"Take him out and we promise to give you an even chance," she whispers. Ivy nods again before following Cato towards the field. Her scythe is on hand, but she also has her dropper full of the Lenadine. They trek into the field with great caution, Cato pausing so often to listen.

The way they find him so pathetic that she almost wants to spare him. He is sitting on a stump of a tree, chewing a piece of wheat and staring at the afternoon sun.

"It's over, ain't it?" His voice is sad and filled with something resembling failure. He had given up on trying to win, and wanted now only to be killed and left to die in piece. Cato stops at the surrender, expecting a fight out of the older, taller, heavier tribute. But Thresh pursues no sort of fight in the least.

"Y-y-yeah, yeah it is."

"And you gonna off me?"

"Yes I am."

"Let the girl do it. I know her soul ain't as black and rotten as yours. I want her to look me in the eyes as she kills me, so I can see her," he murmurs. Ivy steps forward and bullet gray eyes make direct contact with pretty green. Green, what a beautiful color for such a complexion.

"I'm sorry Thresh," she murmurs, removing the Lenadine dropper. He watches her bring it to his face and pauses when she prepares to put it into his mouth. She hesitates, staring at him with a confused expression.

"You're pretty. I hope you win," he whispers. Ivy smiles, kisses his cheek, and drops the poison on his tongue. Much like the boy form 4, his reaction is instant. Blood begins to leak from his eyes and he claws at his throat, attempting to get air back into his lungs. Cato grabs Ivy's wrist, yanking her away from the scene. His canon booms loudly in the distance.

"He died with so much honour it sickens me," he murmurs, angry that he didn't get to fight or murder. Ivy is smiling though, as they walk back to base. Although Cato is scowling and mumbling something about self-righteous people make him sick, Ivy is grinning and walking behind him with a bounce in her step.

She suddenly had a new renewed energy to win. An energy to beat the Careers. And with that energy she comes up behind Cato and slits his throat in one swift movement. He falls to the ground, confusion in his eyes and blood on his lips. She watches him die with laughter in her eyes.

Three canons boom in consecutive order, and Ivy just knows that Glimmer and Clove held their end of the deal.

When she arrived back at camp, Glimmer and Clove have taken weapons and supplies and disappeared, leaving the entire Cornucopia to protect for herself. To busy herself she gathers the ingredients needed to make more Lenadine – relying on Haymitch to send her the acidic green stuff that makes it lethal – and makes some fresh concoctions, as well as meddling with other poisons she knows how to cook up.

She is focused when the faces appear in the sky. Marvel's is first, followed by Cato, Rue and Thresh. 5, Glimmer and Clove are still alive and hopefully still together. As loneliness and boredom begin to take their toll, she decides to shed everything but a smaller pack with water and an apple. She also four different vials of poison and takes a few energy pills to keep her awake.

Tonight, she hunted.

Ivy moves with unspeakable stealth towards the burning fire. She had become too used to moving at night, making her way through the dark instead of the daylight. The camp had to be Glimmer and Clove's, they were the only ones stupid enough to start a fire. And sure enough the two girls lay huddled on the grassy floor, their mouths open.

Seeing as it could be a trick, she decides to make fast and easy work of distributing the Lenadine. Of course, Clove is awake and catches her leg, but it's too late. The poison had already made itself into her system. As a dying act, Clove stabs at her leg, but soon suffocates to death alongside Glimmer.

Foxface is a much more difficult task, seeing as it takes until daylight to find her. Even with the limp in her leg, she moves quietly and exceptionally well. But Foxface is faster, smarter, and not to mention quieter. There's a knife plunged into her back before she can move.

Swinging her scythe blindly, she seems to land a hit because the redhead tumbles to the ground mid-step. Ivy collapses on top of her, keeping the smaller girl pinned there with her knees. She doesn't even speak as she – with shaking hands – pours the Lenadine towards the girl's mouth.

5 slaps the Lenadine from her hand and it spills on her arm, the acidic properties eroding the flesh almost down to the bone. Ivy's scream is loud and filled with agony, but she manages to – not with increased lethargy, of course – fill 5's mouth with one of her other concoctions. The redhead is dead within minutes, and Ivy is immediately extracted for medical care. She doesn't even get to enjoy the announcement of her winning or the trumpets or the sounds of Capitol cheers.

As she collapses onto the floor of the hovercraft, she looks up to find a medic hovering over her. She knows the burns on her arm will never heal, but she'll live seeing as Lenadine is only a problem if too much is inhaled or if one happens to drink or eat some. She would be alright, marred forever, but alright.

Ivy grabs the medic's hand shakily, eyes filled with worry.

"I won?" She slurs, the effects of morphling – _when did they inject me with that?_ – taking over her system. The medic smiles gently, brushing back the blood-matted light locks of her hair.

"Yes, Ivy. You won."


	2. Chapter One

**For this chapter, I borrowed a few sentences from Catching Fire. So, I have to put a disclaimer.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own nor wish to own Suzanne Collins' toys. I merely want to play with them in my own twisted fantasy for a couple of days. I also do not own anything directly from the book Catching Fire, nor do I own the characters.**

**Chapter One**

Her eyes stare at the book in her fingers, her brow furrowed into a frown. She would never be caught dead reading in front of anyone but close friends, but since all ties to them had been severed her nose had been constantly in a book. This week? _Hyperboles and Other Over-Exaggerated Things People Tend to Accentuate. _It was written by a Victor a long time ago, she didn't quite know how it wound up in her personal library.

The Victor takes a long drag from her cigarette, flicking the ashes to the porch without a care. It was a nice fall day in 12, a very rare one at that. Even with the Victory Tour merely three months away, she was able to relax and indulge in her hometown. But of course, indulgences are merely that and not meant to be enjoyed for long.

She bookmarks her book and stomps out the cigarette when she hears Haymitch's screams. They had learned to help each other cope, and now that the District was having a liquor shortage, she was at his home more often than not.

Opening the door without knocking had become a tradition of theirs, so she doesn't have to bother and wait for him to come to the door. She makes her way towards the couch where he lies screaming himself raw. Carefully prying the fingers from his cold – so cold, like a dead man – fingers, she splashes a cup of dirty water on him.

Haymitch jolts awake, screaming a slashing a knife that isn't there. It takes him a bit to realize where he is, and when he does and he breathes a sigh of relief, a hand on his chest.

"Mind waking me without giving me pneumonia?" He asks, wiping a hand down his face. She rolls her eyes.

"If you wanted to be babied you should have Madge-"

"Have Madge what?" Speak of the devil; the bubbly blonde enters the house with confusion. In a basket she carries rolls, fresh strawberries, and jars of jam. Ivy picks a strawberry from the basket and Madge swats at her hand.

"Have you wake me without drowning me half to death," Haymitch murmurs, shedding his shirt for a relatively clean one. Madge wrinkles her nose, setting the basket on the counter. Both girls take in the house, disgusted looks evident on their faces.

"Yes, criticize my humble abode. Have you seen Ivy's place? Books are everywhere. Ashtrays too," he says with contempt. Madge sighs, and Ivy snorts, but remains silent.

"At least it's just books and ashtrays. Your place is god awful, Haymitch. Are you sure you don't want me to have Hazel clean this place up? Because it's no problem, Gale and Katniss come by my house every Saturday to bring strawberries, I could ask him then."

"And what? Have her little demons running all over my house? No, sweetheart, I'll have to decline. I am happy with my little pigsty," he murmurs. With shaky hands he searches through the basket for any hint of liquor or wine or something, but finds nothing. The two ignore the disappointed look on his face.

"But I'm the one giving him pneumonia? Take a bath Haymitch," Ivy says, taking a handful of strawberries. Again Madge swats at her hand, but she manages to scamper out of the door before she could be chastised. Madge had been one of her best friends – even before Faustinus – before the Games and even though she had tried to stave her off, the blonde kept coming back to Victors Village with fresh rolls, strawberries and jam every Sunday evening. Eventually even Haymitch had grown attached to the energy she bought along with her, and they decided to keep her around for a little while. Neither Victor could help the selfish craving they felt for human contact besides each other.

Ivy returns to her porch and book, and soon her peace is back. She revels in the fact that a place that should be full of murderous men and women, a place so empty and lonely, can still be so full and sometimes even fulfilling. The sun is slowly setting and the air is getting cooler, and it truly is a beautiful night. Not a rarity to see in District 12 but a rarity to enjoy. On nights like these, she wishes nothing but to be with her family again. But they had gone back to the sweetshop after she had threatened to kill them if they stayed.

It had been the only way to keep them safe at the time. She had been selfish, wanting only to preserve what little purity she had left for herself. She knew from the rumors what would happen if she didn't sever all ties to anyone she once loved and although it hadn't of been so hard, considering of what she did to Faustinus in the arena, she had still felt the hollowness afterwards.

A hollowness that, no matter how hard they tried, Madge, Haymitch and the other Victors simply couldn't fill.

The sappy thoughts running through her mind force her to slam the book shut in frustration. It's a shame; the book is actually really good. Lighting another cigarette, she pushes off on the porch swing and begins to sway gently.

With the cool air, swaying, and sudden silence, it doesn't take long for her to drift into her dreams.

_Ivy's feet are heavy as the Careers chase her. All of them look the same as when they died – Glimmer and Glove with dried blood streaks down their cheeks and scratches at their swollen throats, Cato with blood dripping from his neck and an unhappy scowl on his face, and Marvel with a spear in the chest and a multitude of bruises littering his body._

_She is running through the forest, branches scratching at her arms. With each scratch, her skin begins to sizzle and burn, and that's when she realizes that the branches are laced with Lenadine. When she looks up, she catches glimpses of red hair and sadistic smiles in the trees._

_Names bounce from one Mockingjay to another: Jasmine, Bryony, Amaryllis, Cayenne, Thicket Gardenia, Peeta, Gale and Faustinus are most popular. She recognizes all of the names as her siblings and friends, people that she had distanced herself from or – in Faustinus' case – killed._

_Speak of the devil the boy steps out in front of her. His flesh is rotting and he still has the effects of the Lenadine on his face and throat. She opens her mouth to call to him, but all she gets in return is a mouth full of branches._

_Her breathing quickens as feels her throat start to close. She scratches at her neck, before pausing momentarily to wipe the blood from her face. As a final stand, she lets out one gurgling scream._

Ivy awakes on the porch swing, wrapped in the arms of Haymitch. Her face had been buried in his shirt, which probably explains why the effects of Lenadine had seemed so real. She cries into his shirt, clawing at the cloth to make sure he's real. But his trembling hands and jaundiced skin is enough for her eventually. He is here in District 12, in Victor's Village. And they were alive.

"Haymitch," she chokes out eventually, a sob catching in her throat. He rocks her gently, pressing occasional kisses on her forehead.

"I'm here, I'm here princess. It's alright now, you're awake. You're awake, princess it's okay," he assures. To make sure, she reaches up and presses her lips to his. It had happened before; they had kissed each other to make sure they were real. It usually only happened when the nightmares were terrible and the touch wasn't enough to make one or the other believe. It was never passionate, and it was strictly kept to nightmares. They also at times slept – just slept – together or curled up together. It helped cope with the loneliness too.

He kisses back, a mild assurance and she pulls away, her forehead resting against his.

"Everyone was there, Haymitch. Everyone. And I was dying… I was dying from Lenadine… I wish I was though, Haymitch. I wish I was dying," she whimpers.

"Me too, princess. But we're not. And we won't for a long time, so you go back to sleep. I'll stay here with you." It was below freezing out, and all he was wearing was a muscle shirt. She goes into the house to get a thermal blanket, wrapping it around them and turning it on.

"I'm terrified of sleeping," she whispers, lying next to him wide awake.

"Me too. I… the nightmares are worse, without the liquor you know? With the booze I can handle it, I'll probably black out before I sleep and I don't have to worry about it. But now… now I don't know, sweetheart. I don't know." She wraps her arms around his midsection and lays her head back on his chest.

"I'll call Effie tomorrow; see if she can send some of that Capitol stuff for you Haymitch." He looks down at her, his eyes twinkling with gratefulness. He had too much pride to call Effie himself, although he had thought about it. He nods in reply and they both focus on the stars in the sky, too scared to fall asleep and too sleepy to talk.

Morning came all too quickly and they broke away from each other to go about their separate devices. Ivy makes the call to Effie – who although launches into a lecture about controlling one's addiction, agrees to send the Capitol stuff – and returns back to her couch to read. The day is a relatively normal one in her new life – no visitors today, won't be again until tomorrow when someone comes to deliver their mail – and she actually even eats a real meal at the Hob. On the walk back to Victor's Village, she can hear her name on someone's lips. She turns, expecting to see Madge or her father, but is shocked to see Gale.

"Ivy!" He calls again. She winces. _Sever all ties, sweetheart, _she remembered Haymitch telling her after she had regained consciousness,_ it'll keep them alive. _

"Gale!" She replies, turning to meet him halfway. Pleasant talk wouldn't get him killed. She'd make some kind small talk and be on her way back to Victor's Village. On her way back to solitude. She notices that Gale smells of the forest and sweat, and she almost leans in. It used to be her favorite smell on him.

They embrace – lingering longer than they should – and pull away reluctantly. They missed each other, or at least she knows she missed him.

"I haven't heard from you. Your family said that you were dangerous, that we should all just stay away. What happened? And why I don't I see you around anymore?"

"Never one to pussy-foot, same old Gale," she murmurs under her breath. "I went through a dark time, Gale. I was… I am broken beyond repair. I belong in solitude, and you belong with your girlfriend."

"Katniss isn't my girlfriend… I thought you were," he says softly. She frowns, turning away and blinking away tears. Gale and her never properly broke-up, she just disappeared one day and he took the hint. She knew that it was for the best, but she had missed him dearly. Technically, they were still a couple.

"I… Gale, you don't understand," Her eyes dart around, looking for any chance of bugs or microphones. Not willing to take chances, she clears her throat. "Let's go to the woods." His confusion is evident, but he nods and directs him towards his and Katniss' entering place.

They walk far away, in utter and complete silence until coming upon the lake in which she knew Gale and Katniss swam in frequently. She sits by the bank – careful not to dirty her dress, seeing as it was white and Cinna would have a fit if he saw it – and sighs.

"Things are different, as Victor. There are so many dangers to having family, friends… anyone that isn't a fellow Victor. Snow would dangle you over my head until I would lie down and beg like a good mutt. And I didn't want that for myself, Gale. Especially since if I don't comply, you could all be dead within seconds."

"So you just abandoned us? I don't see how that's fair, considering how Madge still visits every Sunday."

"I tried to get rid of her too. But she was so drawn… and Haymitch became affectionate towards her. I couldn't threaten her, I was honestly too afraid of him and the company was nice anyways. If I could, Gale, I would allow you to come. But Madge is just a friend. You are so much more than that to me, and I don't think I can live with the blood on my hands."

"So that's it then? You're doing exactly what you're trying not to do! You're lying down and rolling over like a mutt! Defy them, have family, live! Do everything they don't want you to do!"

"Gale shut up! Don't speak like that, anything could be bugged." Even though they were far enough in the woods for Snow's team to give up bugging, she still took precaution. She wouldn't allow him to be killed over treason talk.

"I am just saying you shouldn't let them control your happiness, Ivy."

"Do you want me to be sleeping with every breathing man and woman in the Capitol?" She spits, with more venom than necessary. Gale takes a step back.

"No, I don't want that for you at all."

"Then you will back off."

"At least come with Katniss and I on our hunting trips… so I could at least see you sometime."

"You want to see me?" She asks coldly. Ivy removes a disk – a small disk she kept on her person at all times – from her boot and throws it at his face. She usually kept said disk when she was felt too happy and she would play it to take it down a notch again. "Watch me kill my best friend." And with that she storms off, back towards town.


	3. Chapter Two

**This chapter is a shortie because no matter how hard I try, writing depressed sad angst isn't my forte. You want that, you can go to allonsysilvertongue, she's really good at it. But I am good at fluff and humor {{and steamy hate sex *cough*}} Which you'll probably get next chapter maybe. Alright, moving on.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own nor wish to own Suzanne Collins' toys. I merely want to play with them in my own twisted fantasy for a couple of days. I also do not own anything directly from the book Catching Fire, nor do I own the characters.**

**Chapter Two**

Four days after her argument with Gale, Ivy has returned to a point she had always promised she would never go back to. She knew he was just trying to be a good boyfriend, trying to help her cope. But there were some things he just couldn't help with anymore. Some battles she just had to fight alone.

So Ivy isolates herself after a little while, the only thing drawing her from her house is Haymitch's screams. He worries about her, when she leaves, seeing as she never even has her smirk – the smirk that she had picked up from him – on her lips.

Sometimes he'll go over to her house, when she wakes up and the nightmares are too much and she's having an asthma attack. Other times she'll spend the night in his bed or he'll spend the night on her floor as she sleeps next to him on the couch. It never becomes too affectionate – save for the occasional kissing – just two Victors battling their demons. Together.

As for her state… she's relapsed into the depression she'd had after she had kicked her family out of the house. She barely eats, doesn't bathe, and hardly sleeps due to the nightmares. The Ivy that both Madge and Haymitch had gotten used to was gone again, and it'd take a fellow Victor to bring her back.

One night, when she awakes digging her nails into his wrists, he presses his lips against hers and doesn't pull away until she's stopped screaming 'Faustinus' and began whimpering 'Haymitch'. He held her in place and she ran her hands all over him, feeling this, grazing that. She makes double sure he is real before breaking down into sobs. He hands her the inhaler and rubs soothing circles on his back.

"It was a nightmare, sweetheart," he whispers, laying her back down. She rests her head on him, inhaling the deep scent of whiskey and vomit and soap. When he glances down at her, her eyes are dull and dead and she's so far gone he doesn't think she'll ever come out of this depressive state.

"Not this time. I was just reliving my past, this time. I killed him. I killed my best friend, the boy I grew up with, the boy that gave me my first kiss, the boy that mended my heart after every break-up… and I just killed him in cold blood." Although her words are icy and cold, her voice cracks at the end and she is reduced back to tears.

"You did what you had to do to survive," Haymitch assures, tucking a blonde curl behind her ear.

"Did I? Because at the time it felt like I was killing him because it was fun. At that point in time, I was a Career Haymitch. And Careers deserve to be hated," she manages to choke through her sobs. Ivy buries her face back in his chest and he holds her again.

"The keyword in that sentence is _was_, sweetheart. You weren't like them. You showed mercy, by killing them in their sleep-"

"With a deadly poison that gave them a long, slow, torturous death. I'm not better than Brutus or Cashmere, am I Haymitch?" He responds with a chaste kiss to her lips and a sigh. Ever since he had gotten back his liquors, he had stopped shaking. So his hands are tremorless as he cups her face in his and stares her in her bloodshot eyes.

"Listen to me, Ivy. You did what you thought was right at the time, and at the time you thought that getting home to your brothers, sisters, parents and friends was the right thing to do. Fuck what anyone else says, you are _not_ a Career. You are a _survivor_, sweetheart. So don't you ever say you deserve to be treated like one of those bastards, because you don't. You are so much better than that." His words seem so genuine and sincere that she can't help but collapse into another mess of tears.

"Thank you, Haymitch. Thank you so much," she sobs, balling his shirt up in her fists. He smoothes back the sweaty blonde curls and presses another kiss to her trembling lips.

"Go back to sleep, sweetheart. I'll be here when you wake up," he assures. She lies back down but doesn't go back to sleep. Her fingers trace intricate patterns on his chest as they lay there in silence, and she hums a soft tune that he recognizes as the lullaby his mother sung his father when he was sick.

"_Deep in the meadow, under the willow. A bed of grass, a soft green pillow. Lay down your head, and close your sleepy eyes. When you wake again, the sun will rise," _he sings in a hoarse voice. It's off key and not the same as his mother's delicate voice, but it does the trick because somehow, she falls off to sleep again.

When Ivy awakes, she feels a little better but still has yet to return to her original normal-for-a-PTSD-Victor self. She still refuses to leave the room, but begins to shower. When he offers her toast she tries to eat but winds up vomiting it up again so he holds back on the food.

Other than that though, she is still quiet, still very upset about something. When Haymitch tries to coax it out of her, she just completely shuts down, so he learns quickly to leave her alone about it. He goes through the mechanics of his day – napping, drinking, passing out, drinking, and climbing into bed with Ivy to start it all over again the next morning – and when he lays down and pulls the sheets over them, she turns to him and stares him directly in the eyes. Haymitch tries to advert his gaze, the look of sadness and longing burning so fiercely in them that it hurts.

"I talked to Gale," she whispers, her voice hoarse and raspy from the past few weeks lack of use. Haymitch quirks an eyebrow, but gestures for him to go on. "He wanted to help me, he just wants to be there for me. And I was so frustrated with hiding from everyone that I love… I just snapped at him for no reason. And then I realized how much I had changed. I have never snapped at anyone in my entire life, Haymitch. Now all of a sudden my boyfriend is a choice of hatred. What happened to me, Haymitch?"

"I don't know what happened to you, sweetheart. And to be completely honest, I don't know how to fix you. But I know how to help you cope." She snorts.

"I'm not about to drown myself in liquor. I'm not ready to go down that path. Not yet."

"No, I was going to say find something to keep you busy, sweetheart. I drink. Johanna chops. Finnick fishes. Seeder sews. You just have to find your alcohol or your sewing kit, princess. And those books," he thumps the book that rests on his nightstand, the book that she hadn't touched in weeks. "Are it."

Haymitch sets his bottle of whiskey next to the book, and hands the paperback copy to her. She holds it tightly, as if it is her lifeline. And in a way, it is.

"You read, sweetheart. If it'll make you better, if it allows you to escape into another world, you read your heart out. And when you run out of books, Effie'll send more. You read until you die of old age, and you live. Me? I'll drink until this ol' liver here decides to collapse in out itself," he says, patting his side for emphasis. Ivy throws her arms around his neck and hugs him tightly, practically squeezing the life out of him. Haymitch is tempted to make a sarcastic remark about not being able to breathe, but he missed her so much that all he can do is hug back.

"I'm sorry, Haymitch," she breathes out eventually, not daring to release him from her grip. He kisses her forehead - in more of a fatherly than in a romantic way - and pats her back soothingly.

"It's okay, sweetheart. You're okay. We're okay," he murmurs into her hair it's enough for her. For the time being, the assurance of being alright is enough. But Haymitch wasn't reassuring her. He was reassuring himself.


	4. Chapter Three

**Chapter Three**

Morning comes again with no further nightmares on either Victor's part, and Ivy seems to have been cured of her depression, for the time being. When Haymitch wakes he finds her downstairs, curled on the couch with her new book _A Forbidden Dance _clutched tightly between her fingers. Her lips mouth the words as she reads, but other than that she is almost completely emotionless, enthralled in the book so much she doesn't see him drop down on the couch beside her. He sits beside her for awhile, simply watching her eyes widen in surprise or furrow into deep frowns that took pages to uplift.

"Sweetheart, come back," he jokes, and she looks up. The smile that graces her lips is one that outshines million stars and Haymitch can't help but feel elated that she is back from whatever deep dark depths of her mind.

"When did you wake up?" Ivy bookmarks the book and places it on the coffee table. She stands and begins to busy herself in the kitchen, most likely making tea. When she returns, she doesn't miss him pour a generous amount of vodka into the cup. She swats his arm, but lets him be otherwise.

"Just now. I thought you would have gone home to read, this place is a mess," he murmurs, kicking aside some dirty pants. She wrinkles her nose in the trademark sign of disgust, and agrees with him.

"I was going to go home. But… I decided to stay here, for a little. If you don't mind, I mean," she says, a blush gracing her already rosy cheeks. Haymitch kisses her forehead, wrapping one arm around her and pulling her closer to him. Ivy leans into and welcomes the body heat, wrapping her arms around his midsection.

"You can stay, sweetheart. You can stay for a long as you like."

As the few remaining weeks until the Victory Tour pass, it seems like Ivy and Haymitch fall into a schedule. She would clean until he woke up, they would eat on whatever breads and cheeses that Madge had bought them and then they would curl up on the couch in front of the fire, Ivy reading one of her books and Haymitch drinking from his bottle. At night, Ivy would help Haymitch up the stairs into bed, where they would hold each other through the night to keep the nightmares at bay.

So one could imagine their discomfort when Effie, the cameras and the prep team swarm the house one day, all bright colours and loud talking.

"Haymitch? Haymitch have you seen Ivy? I looked at her house but- oh." Effie pauses when she finds them napping on the couch, Ivy snuggled uncomfortably close to the older Victor for her tastes. Hissing to turn the cameras off – they don't – she shakes Ivy's shoulder.

The girl wakes up in a screaming frenzy, accompanied by Haymitch who manages to bring her back to reality. It seems they don't even notice the escort and her team standing awkwardly in front of them until one of the cameras flash a picture. Haymitch manages to come to his sense first, quickly scooting away from her. Ivy frowns before looking up, her hands flying to her mouth.

"Honey! Have you been biting your nails again?" Venial screeches, taking the hand from Ivy's mouth and into her own. Ivy blushes as the prep swarm her in hello's and hugs before guiding her towards her own house where Cinna awaits. The cameras follow the Victor, intent on catching every second of her life while they can. Effie and Haymitch linger behind, the look in Effie's eyes keeping him glued to his spot.

"She's not even seventeen yet, Haymitch. Dear god, have you been getting her drunk and taking advantage of her? I swear to the high heavens, you are the vilest thing to walk this planet," Effie rants. Haymitch grabs her arm, probably with a little more force than necessary. She stares him down until he releases her, but the frustration doesn't leave his expression.

"I haven't touched the girl in any inappropriate way. She comes to me for the nightmares, when they're bad. We share a bed, yes but that's it. There's nothing more." Somehow, Haymitch looks angrier at the insult than at the accusation, and that worries Effie.

"Have you kissed her Haymitch?" She asks, her voice icy and cold. He pours some whiskey into a glass but she smacks it from his hands, sending the glass rolling across the floor. In her heels, she is his equal height and, quite terrifying.

"I don't see why it matters," he murmurs. She narrows her eyes into slits and jabs a perfectly manicured finger at his chest.

"What are doing is highly uncouth and honestly, uncalled for. If she gets hurt because of this, it falls on your shoulders, Mr. Abernathy. Am I clear?"

"Crystal, princess," he growls right back. "Now kindly get the fuck out of my house." She straightens out her ridiculous silver outfit before clearing her throat.

"Very well then… and do watch your language, Mr. Abernathy. I do not want our little Victor picking up on your insufferable behavior," she sneers before going back towards Ivy's house. The young Victor is dressed in a fringe-skirted dress, the corset on the dress albeit tight, comfortable looking. The dress comes up above her knees, but is kept simple enough for her not to feel uncomfortable or shy while on cameras. The shoes are simple flats and Haymitch wonders why they have her dressed in such a way when it is clearly winter.

"Cinna," Effie gasps. "You have outdone yourself even in the simplest of ways. You are a genius, just a pure genius."

"Well, Effie. Our little Victor is growing up, and maybe that's what Panem needs to see. She's not a child so much anymore. From what I can gather, she's grown quite a bit these past few months as Victor." Everyone nods and agrees with him profusely, praising him for his work over and over again.

"Okay everyone, we are on camera in three… two… one… action!" Effie steps out the frame just as the cameras power to life and focus on the Victor. Ivy smiles and waves, the small screen behind the cameras showing exactly what is currently broadcasting in the Capitol.

"Ivica Pagan everyone!" Caesar calls and the crowd practically trips over themselves in their haste to give their new Victor a standing ovation. Ivy brushes the curls that had been falling in her face from her eyes and laughs a little. Her voice, Haymitch notices, is a bit raspier than from what he last heard, but he figures it's from the all the sudden talking that they don't usually do.

"For you, Caesar, it's just Ivy," she smiles. "How is everything in the Capitol?"

"They are fine here and how's everything in Twelve?"

"Things here are just perfect. My family, my friends and I are just very happy to relish in the gifts that the Capitol has graced us with and celebrate the upcoming Quell with everyone." The lies fall so easily from her mouth that if Haymitch didn't know any better he'd actually believe them.

"That's spectacular news! We'll be keeping tabs on you here in the Capitol as the Victory Tour progresses. How does that sound everyone?" The crowd cheers and claps like animals and Ivy laughs light and airy.

"I can hardly wait, Caesar. Oh, but before you go… are you sure you don't want to see my talent?" She asks, and Caesar slaps his forehead.

"Oh yes, thank you for reminding me! Yes, let's see," he encourages. Ivy turns and accepts a pair of silver ice skates in which she replaces the flats with. After walking around on them for a little while, she clears her throat and begins to skate through the village.

The crew – and the Capitol – is so in awe, that everything goes deathly silent. She moves with a level grace and elegance that no one knew she possessed. Slowly, she begins to make her way back towards the cameras, breathing hard.

"That was amazing!" Caesar says after a long stretch of silence. Ivy bows respectively and waves goodbye to him and the audience who are cheering insanely loud. Once the cameras shut down, Effie claps to snap everyone out of their awe.

"That was a very nice performance, Ivy. Thank you for that. Okay, we move out in fifteen minutes let's go people we are on a tight schedule!"

Once everyone is settled on the train and things are calm and moving quickly towards District 11, Haymitch leaves his room. He finds Ivy on the windowsill, staring numbly out of the train window. The scenery that blurs and mends together seems to captivate her.

"Well, I didn't know you could do that, sweetheart. Where did you even find the time to practice?" he remarks, sitting next to her. She takes the bottle from his hands and takes a drink before setting it down.

"You don't know a lot about me, Haymitch. I'm a girl of many talents. I practiced mostly when I was a younger girl with my sisters and my mother. She was intent we knew how to do something the other kids didn't, so we would fill a large tub with water and we would all skate on it during the winter. I'm a little rusty, but I did excel in that department didn't I?"

"Yeah, you did." The silence that ensues is a comfortable one, filled with passing a bottle back and forth and simply enjoying each other's presence. Eventually, when things begin to blur around the edges for Ivy, she stands and begins to make her way to her room.

"Will you join me tonight?" She asks softly. Haymitch nods, taking a long dreg of his drink.

"When the trains asleep, honey," he replies a bit too affectionately. He expects her to do something like reject him or question him, but a smile graces her lips – the one that could outshine a million stars – and she drops a kiss to his temple. Ivy half-stumbles, half-walks towards her room. Once the door closes behind her, Haymitch subconsciously reaches up to touch his temple. He leans back against the windowsill and sighs.

_There is burning. Everything is on fire. Her lungs, her legs, the children and buildings around her. Fire is everywhere. The more she tries to extinguish the fire, the higher the flames lick. She is on fire and she is destroying everything around her. Her eyes catch his, hard and gray and strong. He charges towards her and she opens her arms widely, embracing ready to embrace him. They collide in a hot bright flash of flames and fire and embers and she smiles as they burn because this dangerous fire just feels warm._

Ivy lurches up in bed, gasping for air and sweating hard. Haymitch sleeps soundly beside her, his soft snores the only sound in the room besides her hard breathing. He had burned her, had ignited her flames. That burning sensation had changed from one of pain to one of a love so white hot that it had exploded.

Ivy desperately tries to remind herself that it had been nothing but a dream and that it had not been real. Of course Haymitch didn't love her, at least not like that. He loved her as his tribute, as his Victor, as his colleague. He loved her like he loved Effie – because she knew he loved Effie – but he didn't love her like that. He didn't love her as she loved him.

"Sweetheart." Think of the devil, and he shall come. Haymitch awakes with drowsy eyes. She brushes back the dirty dark hair on his forehead and slides back down next to him, her head on his chest. This was how they always slept, seeing as it was about as close as they could get to each other without directly laying on top of one another.

"I'm okay, Haymitch. Go back to sleep," she whispers. Haymitch runs his fingers through her hair sleepily, before dropping a kiss to her lips.

"Whatever it was, sweetheart, it wasn't real," his voice is raspy from the grog of sleep and he is unconscious of the dream she had just experienced. But instead of being offended or hurt, Ivy smiles.

"I know it wasn't, Haymitch. I know."

"Get some rest," he murmurs, laying his head back down. She waits until she thinks he is sleep before giving him yet another kiss, this time full of passion.

"I love you, Haymitch Abernathy." And if Ivy didn't think she knew better, she would have thought he had said it back.


	5. Chapter Four

**Chapter Four**

"Up, up, up, it's going to be a big, big, big day!" Effie's voice chimes throughout the entire train, forcing the cameramen, prep team, stylists, and mentor awake. Somehow though, Ivy sleeps through her shrill voice. Haymitch grunts at her heavy sleeping and throws on a wrinkled shirt and a pair of pants.

He's on his way out to the bar car when Effie stops him.

"Haymitch Abernathy, you cannot possibly be wearing that today! You are representing all of us and I hope you know-"

"That my appearance reflects on the entire District, yeah I get it sweetheart. I'm sure Cinna has something better for me to wear, I'm just going to the damned bar car," he groans, rubbing a hand over his tired face. Effie wags her index finger in his face, shaking her head in rhythm with it.

"No, you are not. You need to shave, you hair needs to be cut, you need a bath… Portia and her prep team will be styling you today. And please, Haymitch, brush your teeth," she scrunches up her nose before turning and sashaying away. He glares at her, grumbling something about nagging women before continuing on his way to the bar car.

Meanwhile, Ivy awakes from her slumber at the sudden loss of Haymitch's warmth beside her. The previous night's memories rush to her in a wave of happiness and for a second, she almost forgets where she is or where she is going. All she can do is sit on her bed, smiling smugly to herself.

Then Effie's shrill voice pierces her happy thoughts and sends her crashing back into reality. As her surroundings dawn on her, dread wells inside her chest and clenches. District 11 was fast approaching, and she had killed one of their tributes, and aided the Careers in killing their other. She would have to face an angry District, not to mention the families of those she killed and help kill.

The realization hits her with an addition of nausea and dizziness, and she barely makes it to the restroom before the previous night's dinner rushing through her throat, along with the whiskey she had enjoyed with Haymitch. Muttering to herself about her hatred for liquor and the fact that she will never drink again, she flushes the bile and steps into the shower.

While she is showering, the prep team enters with her dress. Ivy is barely out of the bathroom before she is bombarded with swirls of color and happiness. She smiles and laughs along with them because really, they were just likeable, and sits still as they prep her.

"You are such a doll to work with," Flavius says, blow drying her hair. "You keep yourself taken care of. I feel so bad for Arsenius next door. He has to deal with that wretched mentor of yours."

"Oh yes, I heard one year he nearly bit a prep because they tried to get him into a tie," Octavia gasps. Venia nods her head, looking up from filing Ivy's nails.

"Yes, I would rather work with you than him. At least though, he lets his nails grow. Sweetie, you have to stop biting your nails," Venia scolds. She applies a soft yellow polish that glitters in the right light. Ivy shrugs.

"Sometimes when I'm reading, things get real climatic. I can't help it, Venia. But I promise I'll try to stop," she assures. This just gets the prep team cooing over what a doll she is, and how precious she acts. By the time she is dressed, Ivy never wants to hear those words again.

"Is she ready?" Effie asks, knocking on the door of her room. The escort enters anyways, but stops in the doorway. Ivy looks young, quite the contrast from what she had on in Twelve. A simple yellow polka-dotted dress with matching black tights and yellow flats, yellow jewels for earrings and her token – a silver locket with her triplet sister and brother on the inside – dangling from her neck. And of course, to top it all off, a yellow bow.

She looks thirteen, not sixteen.

"You are so adorable!" Effie coos, and it all just starts up again. Ivy cringes but accepts the compliments easily. When she looks up, Haymitch is leaning in the doorway with a smug smirk on his lips. He is dressed a bit more formally, with a pair of nice trousers and shirt. But his hair has had a trim and his beard has been shaven down to stubble.

"Well look at you, sweetheart. You don't look so murderous anymore, now I feel bad for sharing a bed with you." The prep and Effie all turn to glare at him. It's so in synch that it's scary.

"Haymitch Abernathy! That is no way to speak to such a lovely young lady! You and your snide remarks are dismissed!" Effie shrieks, shooing him out of the room. Ivy rolls her eyes behind her back, following her out the door. Effie clears her throat.

"Alright then. Cinna, Portia, I need you all to take our change of outfits out to Mayor's home, I've arranged for Fiora to escort you there," Fiora was District 11's escort. "Haymitch, Ivy and I will go straight to the Justice Building for her to deliver her speech. Both prep teams follow the stylists; we'll all meet up back at the Mayor's house," Effie instructs.

"Alright, my Victor, chins up, smiles on, the cameras are rolling… 3… 2… 1…" The train doors slide open and Ivy is assaulted with bright flashing lights and screams from the reporters. A small girl – a girl that resembles the one from her Games – takes her hand gently and guides her towards the Justice Building. When they're away from the cameras, the girl drops Ivy's hand.

"I'm Peony. I'll be giving you the award."

"I'm Ivy."

"I know," Peony says. Ivy looks over her shoulder, but Effie and Haymitch are both caught up with reporters and taking pictures. The Victor is alone with the girl.

"How old are you, Peony?" Ivy asks, in attempt to make small talk. They approach a tall, beaten down building and she can't help but feel small next to it.

"I'll be twelve in two weeks." The tall blonde cringes. In two weeks, this girl will eligible for the Games. In two weeks, this girl had the chances of dying in an arena.

"Oh really? Happy early birthday then."

"Thank you." Peony pushes against two large, heavy looking doors but they swing right open to reveal a grandeur setup. A small waiting area is set up with a little buffet of breakfast foods and coffee, and a table is placed right in front of a television, probably for Effie and Haymitch to wait while she delivers the speech.

"You can wait here; my daddy and our Victors will be right in. Help yourself to the buffet, there's plenty to go around." Ivy nods and Peony leaves the room. Not long after, a tall skinny dark-skinned man, a slightly pudgier man, and a very pretty woman enter the small room, followed by Effie and Haymitch.

"Miss Pagan, it's a pleasure," The tall man says. Ivy stands to shake his hand, but he pulls her in for a hug and kiss instead. Albeit dazed, she is delighted that not everyone absolutely despises her. "I am Fickle Cumberbatch, the Mayor of District 11. These are our Victors, Chaff and Seeder."

Chaff repeats Fickle's manner with the hug and kiss, but Seeder accepts a handshake.

"Once our escort arrives, we can get started," Fickle says. He gives Ivy, Effie and Haymitch brief rundowns of the process – although Effie keeps interrupting with corrections – and just as he finishes an escort comes stumbling in, papers flying everywhere. Effie purses her lips in distaste.

"Sorry, hi… oh… sorry uh… where'd that paper go to… so sorry…" Fiora trips over her heels, rushing to gather the papers. "Hi! Hi, I'm Fiora, nice to meet you. Long time no see Effie!"

"I'm afraid it hasn't been long enough," Effie murmurs. Fiora doesn't hear her – or if she does, she chooses to ignore it – and finally manages to compose herself.

"Are you ready, Miss Pagan? Today is all about you, here in District 11, so we start on your word."

"I am ready whenever everyone else is ready, Miss Fiora. I am a mere guest here in your District, so I am here on your time," she says with politeness. From the corner of her eye, Ivy can see Effie beaming.

"Alright then. If everyone is ready, then we can begin. Chaff, Seeder, Mayor Cumberbatch, why don't you all go take your places, start the ceremony. I'll be out there to announce our Victor's arrival in a short while." The trio agree and exit through the front doors of the building. They all watch on the screen, waiting for the Mayor to finish the opening remarks.

"And now, your escort for District 11, Fiora Saddleback." Fiora wishes Ivy good luck before taking the stage herself. Effie turns Ivy around; fixing her hair that had become windblown.

"Remember, read from the cards and you'll do fabulous. I want your biggest smile… there you go. Haymitch and I will be right back here, if you freeze up alright?"

"We now welcome, the Victor of the 74th Hunger Games, Ivica Pagan!" Before Ivy can take a deep breath she is pushed out on stage by Effie and onto the microphone. She has the cards memorized, but she glances at them just for sake.

"I would like to thank you, first and foremost, for your sacrifices. Your tributes were young, noble, and brave and will forever be remembered by me and the rest of Panem. They fought alongside me as warriors, and both died very honorable deaths. I would also like to thank you for your hospitality, seeing as ever since I have come here I have been greeted in nothing but love and welcoming." The speech is going fine until she looks up, where Thresh's family stand. A girl and an elderly woman are the only ones there to remember him. The pang of guilt that stabs at heart forces her to stumble a little.

"I… I…" _I killed him, _she wants to say._ I murdered your little boy. _Pushing those thoughts from her head, she continues with a hard swallow. "I finish with something we say in my home District: _Honor is the strongest armor any warrior can wear. _And your tributes wore honor like gleaming metal suits." She pauses to frown. They never said that in her District, ever. But Effie was brilliant for the rest of the speech.

She is about to step away from the microphone when the hard glare of Thresh's sister catches her gaze again.

"I also wanted to say I'm sorry," she says, letting the cards tumble to the ground. "I didn't know Rue at all, but I did know Thresh, in a sense. And I'm sorry. I shouldn't have killed him, I shouldn't be here. He should be in my District, saying these same words. I am a ruthless, treacherous excuse for a human being and I'm so sorry. He deserved to live. I'm so, so, so, sorry that you lost him." And just like that, her strong mask cracks and crumbles, leaving the remnants of a broken little girl who is just so terrified. Hot, fat tears stream down her cheeks, running the mascara that Octavia had so carefully applied.

Ivy begins to hyperventilate as she cries, and at some point things get black around the edges and she faints on stage.

When she wakes again, they're back on the train. Ivy tries to sit up, but Haymitch's arms are keeping her pinned to the bed.

"Shh, princess. Effie finds out you're awake, she'll have a fit. You ruined the entire ceremonies, they had to cancel everything. We're on our way to Ten now," he explains. Ivy looks up at him, and he presses a kiss to her nose.

"Haymitch I… I fucked up didn't I?"

"No, it's alright. It was too much from the very beginning. We pushed you too hard, and it didn't help that they had a huge animation of Thresh behind his sister and grandmother, who both, by the way, send their get well wishes."

"Oh… I don't want to sleep anymore," she whispers. Haymitch shrugs.

"You don't have to." They lay in a comfortable silence until suddenly Ivy moves and kisses him. And it's not one of those _it-was-just-a-dream-you're-safe _kisses. It's an _i-love-you-so-much-i-don't-know-what-to-do _kiss and Haymitch returns it with just as much passion.

**Funny little story behind this chapter, I once had to give a speech in front of my entire school and I worked myself into such a fuss that I began crying on stage and I then I passed out. The entire event was pushed to a later date and an ambulance was called. So, I was thinking about that and I decided to add it to this chapter. Also, Cumberbatch didn't just come from thin air. My friend had this little city game and the Mayor's name was Cumberbatch. Alright, hope you enjoyed ^-^**


	6. Chapter Five

**I realize that I was extra late with this chapter and that is because I've been in the hospital for nearly two weeks :| But I am back, and here with TWO new chapters and a big apology.**

**Chapter Five**

The rest of the Districts go by smoothly, much to Effie's pleasure. Ivy somehow manages to keep herself together until they get back on the train and she can collapse into Haymitch's welcoming arms. It seems as if almost every night she must be carried to his or her room because her legs give way and she's a sobbing mess that can barely walk.

But when morning comes she's the Victor, strong and without flaw. In District 1, she even pauses to encourage a little girl who says that she would win the Games one day too, and in District 4 she lets a group of seemingly underprivileged children guide her to the foamy water's edge where she submerges herself completely, allowing them to teach her how to swim. Effie was furious about that one, seeing as she ruined a very expensive jet of jeans and a beautiful shimmering tank top in the wild crashing waters.

Yes, Ivy is perfectly kept together. Which is why when it comes time for the Capitol ball, she is expected to be absolutely perfect. The most single flaw on this night could absolutely damage any and all reputations, and everyone's good name rested on her shoulders.

Haymitch doesn't seem to care for anything they're all saying, except for when the subject of him and his liquors falls on his lips. She knows he is still very hungover from District 1 – he and the mayor had both hit it off exquisitely for their tastes in alcohol – and is on his way to being plastered before the night even begins.

"Please Haymitch, for everyone's sake. Keep yourself together for just a few more hours. I know this is taxing on you, going through this Tour and basically reliving what happened nearly twenty-five years ago. But I need you to stay at the top of your Game, for appearances sake," she hisses as soon as the stylists leave the dressing room.

"When did you care so much about representation, princess?" He asks, with a quirked eyebrow. She tugs at the dress – Cinna had not chosen this dress but Venia had and it was entirely too short, too tight, and too revealing – and sighs.

"Since I fainted in the middle of giving a very important speech that I have yet to hear the end of. One more night, Haymitch and we're back home in solitary bliss."

"Yes, until the Quell where my life, my past, my everything would be looked at under a focused microscope and every inch of my being examined. I am the only functioning Quell Victor," he says, referring to Anthropis who was nearing a hundred and four and still unable to mentor or do anything properly. She was apparently, the oldest living Victor. "Everything about me will be put up for grabs during these Games."

"I know it will, my love," she murmurs, brushing her lips against his. "But you have to stay together."

"And I will try my damndest Ivy," he sighs, his hands settling against her waist. He leans down to give her a proper kiss, but it is quickly broken as they remember where they were. Too many cameras to be giving such a display of affection. "But I have absolutely no promises to provide."

"I know. Thank you." Ivy is still under his intoxicating spell when Effie click-clacks into the private area. She had long since discovered their affair and had agreed to keep it under wraps if they listened to her every abiding will and did their part by staying away from cameras.

That still didn't stop her from wrinkling her nose in disgust.

"Ivy, you remember your duties?"

"Of course, Effie," the blonde replies, pulling away from the grasp of her lover. The room isn't cold, but she can't help the wave of cold that rushes over her. The cold that always lingered when Haymitch wasn't holding her.

"Yes, it is important that this runs smoothly. President Snow will present you with a sash and a plaque, and then you and Haymitch will kick off the night with first dance – you're welcome – before the true party begins. And Ivy, my sweetness," Effie murmurs, tucking a strand of curly blonde hair behind the younger woman's ear. "Do try and impress the other Victors and Gamemakers. After all-"

"Your reputation depends on it, I know Effie."

"Yes that and our sponsors favor depends on it as well. If they District 12 is finally making something of themselves… oh dear sponsors will be around the block. Haymitch… try not drown in a pool of your own vomit, will you?" The bitterness and cold directed towards Haymitch makes Ivy want to hurt her escort, but she remains proper and sweet for the sake of argument.

"He'll stay by my side; I'll make sure he gives the District a proper appearance Effie. You should go, Cinna and the others will be making their entrance soon and it's always nice for the escort to make a grandeur appearance, no?" Effie smiles, kissing Ivy's cheeks.

"I knew you were better than that good for nothing drunkard of yours," Effie says, before leaving the room. Haymitch can tell Ivy is bristled, so he hugs her from behind, pressing a kiss to her exposed neck.

"I'm used to it, Ivy. Don't worry about me," he whispers in her ear.

"I just hate that she talks to you like that and you just _let_ her."

"On occasion I do," he corrects. "Sometimes no one wants her wild screeching. She sounds like some sort of kicked animal." Before she can reply with some sort of equally snide remark, a stage director comes to collect them. He doesn't catch their awkward break-away, luckily. He tells them that they should probably go line-up, and the two Victors make their way to where Effie is impatiently waiting to be announced.

"There you two are. Big smiles, remember you are representing not only your team but your entire District," Effie reprimands. Before either of them can reply, her name is being called and she's walking out, blowing kisses and waving to everyone.

Ivy glances around and upon noticing that everyone else in the room – which was only five people – where very occupied, she pressed a quick kiss to his cheek.

"Feeling rebellious, are you?" He asks. She smiles up at him before peeking out of the corners. There seems to be millions of Capitolites lining the pathway up to the mansion, she wouldn't be surprised if everyone in the Capitol was there.

"A big crowd, no?" A smooth voice asks. She turns to the see the Victor of District Four clutching a plate of cake in his fingers. "Yeah, it was the same way when I won. It's not always like this; you must be a popular Victor."

"You're not supposed to be eating before the festivities," Ivy manages to sputter out. She has to admit, she is enamored by his unnatural beauty. He chuckles and glances out on the crowd.

"Maybe not, but I do like my sweets. Would you like a bite?" He offers. She shrugs and nods and he feeds her a piece of the savory cake. The younger Victor chews slowly, taking the time to wonder where Haymitch is.

"It's my favorite thing here, besides the women," Finnick winks. Ivy can hear the crowd cheering respectively as Haymitch exits, but she can't bring her eyes to tear away from Finnick's. "Good luck out there, honey. Try not to vomit."

The choice of words is peculiar, but she is not given the luxury of asking questions. Her name has been announced, and she is pushed out onto the pathway. The crowd goes absolutely insane, pushing against the steel barriers that keep them from attacking the Victors. Ivy smiles and waves, but otherwise tunes out her surroundings. The last thing she needed was to have another episode.

When she reaches the platform Haymitch reaches out to grab her. The heels are ridiculously high and she missteps. Haymitch has to grab her around the waist to keep her from falling. He twirls her lightly to stand by him, a quick cover-up for her near fall.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, I present to you the District 12 team of the 74th Hunger Games!" The crowd goes rowdy, and everyone but Ivy sits. "And now introducing our generous and gracious President… President Coriolanus Snow!"

Instead of the wild feral cheering that had been displayed when the team had exited, the Capitol greets their President with a multitude of respectful clapping. Ivy is almost too shocked to do so herself.

President Snow waves and smiles to the crowd before crossing over to Ivy. The place goes so quiet that suddenly, you can hear a pin drop. President Snow places a gold crown over her head and then eyes the token.

"What a lovely locket," he whispers, his fingers grazing it gently. Chills run down her spine – and not the chills she gets from Haymitch's touch, more like the chills she got every time she made a kill in the arena – and she refrains from vomiting at the heavy metallic stench of blood and fabricated roses.

"Thank you, my mother got it for me," she replies, choking back bile. It would be terrible for her to vomit on his shoes, Effie would throw a fit.

"I bet they are so proud of you."

"Yes sir, they are." President Snow drapes the sash over her, hands her the plaque and smiles at her.

"You are a lovely young lady. I am glad you won for your District," he whispers, before turning and raising her hand towards the crowd. That's when the frenzy starts again, and she feels nauseated from all the loud noises.

"Let the festivities, begin!"

Ivy twirls her hair in her fingers mindlessly, sitting alone at the bar. Effie and Haymitch were sharing a dance, the prep team was nowhere to be found and so were her stylists.

"Remember me, love?" A voice asks, and she turns to see Chaff hunched over the bar, eyes bloodshot and speech slurred.

"Yes, yes I do. How are you?" She asks. He raises his glass to her and she nods. _Awful._

"Same here. Bartender, get my friend here another bottle, I'll take a dirty martini," she says. The Bartender nods and sets to work with her drink after handing Chaff another bottle of whiskey. "My gift to you. For your tributes."

"Ah, yes. Instead of mourning their deaths, I'll drink them this year. As per usual, love. Where's your old mentor?"

"He's dancing," she replies, gesturing to the dance floor where Haymitch was twirling Effie about and genuinely having a good time. It was tradition for all the male mentors to dance with their female escorts and the female mentors to dance with their male escorts. Haymitch and Effie always had a good time at the Victory Tour, despite themselves. It was the only time anyone ever saw them get along and they were often crowded on the dance floor, doing extravagant twirls and jumps.

It was the only part of the Hunger Games where the genuinely enjoyed themselves and each other's company. So Ivy let them have their moment.

"Ah yes, he always is at these things. Smooth on his feet, that old drunkard."

"Are you?"

"Am I what, love?"

"Are you smooth on your feet, Chaff? Would you like to dance with me?" Chaff chuckles and nods.

"Yeah, sure, love." She takes his good hand and guides him to the center of the dance floor, which is now deserted do to District Twelve's dancing duo. He places his stub on her waist and the other hand grabs hers and they sway gently.

"I can see why he loves you," he sighs, pausing to twirl her. She takes a sharp breath. How did he know about that? It was kept strictly between the District 12 team.

"Oh yeah? Why?"

"Because, you're all that's left."

"Chaff-"

"Did you know out of sixty Victors that didn't die of natural causes, over twenty of them have killed themselves after their Games? Twenty succumbed to alcohol, five to morphling. Do you know what that leaves, love?"

"Fifteen," she whispers.

"Yes. Seven of you are still good. Still holding on. Finnick, Annie, Mags, Johanna, Cashmere, you, Gloss, Enobaria, Beetee, Wiress, Brutus, Seeder, Cecelia, Woof and Aliyah. Only fifteen have still got your wits about you. Now, Finnick has Annie. Mags and Woof are way too elderly. Wiress and Beetee are an item, as are Enobaria and Brutus. Seeder… well he knows better," Chaff pauses to chuckle.

"Cecelia has three children, something our dear Haymitch can't afford to have. Besides, she's married. Gloss wouldn't dare let him touch Cashmere, and Haymitch certainly doesn't want Gloss. Aliyah is major psycho girlfriend and let's face it, does 12 really need some crazy cowgirl running around claiming she's carrying Haymitch's child?"

"No, I guess not."

"That leaves you and Johanna. The only thing is, he's grown to love Johanna as a daughter. So that's you only. You're all that's left, Ivy. He can't afford to court some non-Victor girl, that's too dangerous for him. You are the only thing he has." Ivy notices that they've stopped dancing and are simply standing in the centre of the dance floor, staring at each other and whispering in hushed voices. Chaff drops her hand, bows and smiles at her.

"Be careful with that old drunkard love. Remember. You're all that he has." He saunters off back towards the bar to finish his bottle and Ivy turns to see Haymitch, still clutching hands with Effie, staring at her with quizzical eyes.

She flashes him a smile and waves her hand for him to continue enjoying himself.


	7. Chapter Six

**SmUt AhOy! SMUT AHOY. SMUT AHOY. SMUT ALERT. SMUT ALERT. SMUT ALERT. SMUT ALERT. SMUT ALERT. SMUT ALERT. SMUT ALERT. LEMON TREES. LEMON TREES. WARNING. WARNING. WARNING WARNING.**

**A/N: If you don't like M rated things don't read .-. Okay, now onto the lemons.**

**Chapter Six**

As they all board the train, Effie dismisses everyone immediately, adding that dinner would be held in their own compartment tonight seeing as everyone was so exhausted. The prep team and stylists aren't as grateful for the relaxation as much as Haymitch and Ivy were. They practically ran from the others to their compartment, slamming the button to close the door quickly.

"They are so rude," Effie yawns, stretching. It's rather unladylike and uncouth in company, but her feet are killing her and she is drowsy from her intake of alcohol and dancing with Haymitch.

"Yes, but they are awfully cute," Portia groans, collapsing on the couch in a heap. Cinna helps Effie sit down and removes both of their heels, placing them respectively by the couch.

"You two get some rest."

"Not on the couch," Effie drawls.

"Of course on the couch. Now go on, I'll wake you later to move to your rooms.

Meanwhile, Ivy and Haymitch were a tangled mess on their bed, their mouths moving in perfect rhythm. Haymitch's fingers found her blonde locks and tug, gently. She moves away from him, shifting so that she is straddling his waist and her hair is making a curtain around his face.

"What, what is it?"

"I can't control myself anymore, sweetheart," he sighs, rolling onto his back. She quirks an eyebrow.

"What in the world are you talking about Haymitch?" Rolling his eyes, he guides her hand to the dent in his pants and she draws away like it had burned her. There is a look of shock on her features, then amusement. She places a kiss on the corner of his mouth, rubbing the dent with a perfect rhythm.

"Mmm… maybe you shouldn't have to anymore," she hums. Haymitch grunts and pushes her off, so that he can hover over her.

"Don't," he growls. "Don't play with me, Ivy. I'm a grown man, not a toy." A look of hurt flashes across her face and she recoils, turning away from him.

"I'm sorry. I was just trying to help," she sighs, curling on her side. He lowers himself so that he's behind her and wraps his arms around her waist. His lips press against her neck, and she swats him away. "Stop it, I'm angry with you."

He sighs, obviously frustrated. He would never admit it, but he had enjoyed her menstruations. So he swallows his pride and whispers into her ear, "I love you, princess, and I'm sorry."

"I love you too, but… I just…" She trails off, a frown on her perfectly plump lips. Her arms slink around him and her head falls on his chest. "Did you mean it?" She asks suddenly. He clears his throat and nods. It had never occurred to him, but he did mean it. With all of his heart. He loved Ivy, it was true. With all his heart, he loved her.

"Yeah, I did," he combs his fingers through is hair, not used to not having to uncomb the knots and tangles in his air – Arsenius and Illinova had taken care of that problem, but not without much fuss from him – and shakes his head. "It's stupid and foolish and I shouldn't but I do."

"Haymitch, you're such a sweetheart," she says, kissing his cheek. He glares at her.

"That's my thing, princess. 'Sweetheart' is my term of endearment. You stick to calling people by their names." She giggles and snuggles next to him.

"I… do you want to? I mean do want to… I- you can if you like… you can- uh…" She's caught up in her words and he shakes his head, smoothing back the soft curls atop her head. Even Haymitch had to admit, she was stunning, a goddess.

"I wouldn't do anything you wouldn't want."

"I do, though… want it, I mean. I do, before I go back. I need it."

"What are you talking about?" She opens her mouth, before pressing her lips to his.

"Can we take a shower?" She asks. Haymitch nods and they enter the bedroom, quietly. As soon as the steam fills the bathroom and the water is beating on his back she broke down in tears and confessed everything.

"When Snow and I were dancing he said… he said that he knew of us, knew of my attempts to hide my family, and knew of Madge, Gale… everyone. Said I had so many, too many lives at risk. And he also mentioned that no one would notice the old Victor dying of alcohol poisoning," her eyes glistened with tears as she pressed a kiss to his knuckles. "When I go back to mentor, I have an appointment with Seneca Crane." Haymitch is quiet for a moment, before he takes his fist and lodges it into the shower wall. Whimpering, Ivy draws away from the rage filled man, seeing as his eyes have glossed over and he looks gone to the world.

Haymitch simply couldn't believe that she was falling to the same fate as Finnick, that her body would be seen as a mere plaything amongst the men and women of the Capitol. He didn't bother to imagine how many times she would stumble into the penthouse, looking as battered and broken as he had before his girlfriend was killed. As Johanna, as Finnick had. He couldn't stand to see that same dying light in his lover's eyes.

Every year, he realizes with a pain in his chest, every year that they go back to mentor she would become victim to some man thrice her age and twice her size.

"Haymitch," her soft voice calls out. "Haymitch, come back." And he does. He comes back alright. He comes back and pins her to the wall of the shower, ripping her dress off her body and leaving her breasts exposed to warm spray of water. The red bra underneath fades to a soft maroon as slowly, slowly the water begins to drench it.

"Haymitch what are you doing?" She asks something akin to fear in her eyes. His shirt and her bra go next, leaving her chest fully exposed to him. He palms one and she gasps, her lips parting and her eyes fluttering closed.

"You like that sweetheart?" He asks, a smile forming on his lips. "Is that nice?"

"Y-y-yes Haymitch please, more please," she begs, her sentences becoming incoherent. While his hand teases the nipple on her breast, his other hand makes its way south, to her panties. He can tell she's soaked, and not just from the water. Quickly her panties are discarded and her legs are hoisted around his waist. He slides three fingers in her and she cries out, in as much as shock as in ecstasy. The pain doesn't subside, but soon the pleasure outweighs it and she is releasing into his fingers. Stars burst behind her eyelids and she screams out his name, her nails digging into his back.

"Oh you're an easy one," he whispers in her ear, the menstruations of his fingers becoming rougher. Her eyes roll back in her head and she bucks against his hand as a fourth finger rocks her to the core.

"Haymitch it… hurts," she gasps out, when suddenly his fingers are gone and his tongue is there. Her own fingers find their way into his filthy dark locks and tug, bringing his face closer to her mound. His tongue works wonders, the scratch of his stubble enhancing the sensations. It doesn't take long at all for him to bring her back to the edge. Her second orgasm is just as good as her first one and she slumps against him.

Eyeing the pants that are still on him, she manages to slur out, "You're wearing too much."

"What a clever observation," he replies, and soon his own pants are discarded. His boxers fall around his ankles and his throbbing erection is finally exposed to her. Quickly, she reaches for it but he smacks her hands away.

"So eager," he says, rubbing his erection against her mound. She sighs, wishing he would stop teasing her. He places the tip in, but removes it just as quickly, a sly smile curling his lips. "Beg."

"Please," she whines. "Please Haymitch I-" Her words are swallowed as he presses his mouth against hers. Suddenly a burning pain explodes though her body and she opens her mouth to cry out. He stays still for a moment, allowing her to adjust. While he waits, he places hard, rough bites on her neck and collarbone. When she relaxes against him, he begins to move. Slow and gentle at first, but soon he is being rough, slamming into her without any precaution.

His name falls repeatedly from her lips like a prayer, along with soft commands – "Faster, Haymitch!" "Please, please more!" – and loud moans and screams of ecstasy. As their bodies move together in rhythm, they both can't mistake the growing heat in the pits of their bellies.

"I'm going to-" Haymitch grunts, his sentence remaining unfinished. Her legs lock around his waist and leans down to kiss his earlobe.

"Together," she whispers. The unmistakable cries of ecstasy that follow ring throughout the entire train.

-x-

Laying together, tangled in the sheets, Ivy and Haymitch come down from their high together. As the sun begins to rise, they recover from a series of lovemaking sessions, leaving them both winded.

Ivy traces a bruise on Haymitch's neck, wincing.

"I shouldn't have been so rough," she murmurs drily. He chuckles, shaking his head.

"I was much, much worse, princess. Speaking of which, are you alright?"

"I've never been better, my love," she says gently, leaning her head against his shoulder. "Thank you for… that."

"No need to thank me, princess. You should probably get cleaned up, I'm sure we woke the entire train and the last thing they need to see is you in this predicament."

"You're probably right," she frowns, shaking her curls. "You should go too, go get dressed and clean yourself up."

"Will do Princess," he smirks, climbing out of bed. He presses a kiss to the top of her head and tilts her chin so she is looking into his eyes. "If you have any regrets about-"

"I don't have any regrets, you foolish man!" She laughs. "Now go, before Effie chews you a new one."


	8. Chapter Seven

**A/N: Okay, so a few notes before the chapter. I am in the hospital right now, because while I was out of town on a field trip, I fell off of a skateboard at the park and fractured my hip. Of course, they helicoptered me back home and I am currently getting care, but my chapters are late because of this. Also, I know this chapter is rushed but that's because the hospital's internet connection goes off at 11 mountain time to ensure that patients are getting a full nights rest. So I apologize. Thank you and continue.**

**Chapter Seven**

Back in District 12, Ivy and Haymitch manage to find some sort of schedule again, and albeit it's a different one, it becomes a comfortable one. Of course, they were uneasy, at first, after the incident on the train ride but once they got used to each other – and other's bodies – they were unable to help themselves any longer. Haymitch had not been lying to Ivy when he said if they started something like that, he wouldn't be able to stop. Ivy now knew she would never want him to.

She was at Haymitch's home more often than not, only ever returning home occasionally to retrieve an item or some more fresh clothing. Eventually though, she ran out of clothing to move into his home. At first she said she was only staying to help him clean his house, and she slept in the guest room. But Haymitch found himself slipping into her bed – or her slipping into his – more and more often, and soon she just began sleeping in his room. Even though they never did much sleeping at all.

Madge was another new factor of their lives. Of course, she was uncomfortable with the idea of them at first, but once she realized there were more benefits than downsides to their relationship, she shrugged it off. She began returning at her normal time every Sunday – and sometimes she would come on Friday nights and stay until Sunday's – and she still brought them jam, bread, berries and Haymitch his alcohol. She loved staying with them, and had even asked if she could move with the couple once she was ineligible for the reaping. They were still thinking on that one, though.

Another great positive after her tour was that Ivy no longer heard from Gale. According to Madge, he had totally forgotten about Ivy and was dating the cobbler's daughter, Delly. Also according to Madge, Gale had gotten Delly pregnant and they were expecting a baby boy soon. Ivy couldn't be happier for them. Hell, she was finally happy. Or at least, as happy as she could be for someone who was being sold the highest bidder when she returned back to the Capitol to mentor.

-x-

While Ivy naps on the couch, Haymitch and Madge wander through the more bustling part of the city. It's a Sunday – most of the miners are off today, so the streets are full of families and eager miners willing to trade for some food and supplies for their families – and Madge has to return home tonight but she disclosed a very important piece of information to Haymitch the previous weekend and has dragged him down to the town for a cake.

"Her favorite kind of cake is marble," Madge explains, pushing open the door to the bakery. The bell on the door dings, but over the loud laughing in the kitchen, she's not sure anyone heard. "And her favoriting icing is butter cream and her favorite color-"

"Is fuchsia," Haymitch interrupts the girl. "She told me that much."

"Yup. Peeta!" The youngest baker boy, Peeta Mellark, appears around the corner. His blue eyes sparkle with mirth and surprise, and he quickly fixes the curly blonde locks into something presentable.

"Hello Madge," he says with a big grin on his lips. "Hello Mr. Abernathy."

"Hi Peeta! I need a cake for a friend," Madge says, tapping her nails against the counter. They shimmer with a gold nail polish, a nail polish that Ivy had a loaned to her from her vast collection. Peeta raises an eyebrow, but retrieves a notepad.

"Is it a cake for Katniss?" He asks, and Haymitch notices the boy's excitement peak a little – if that was at all possible. Madge shakes her head, the blonde ponytail swaying as she does. His face falls a little, but he brightens up again before Madge can catch it.

"No, I'm afraid not. No, it's for Ivy! Remember her?" She asks, leaning forward. Peeta nods and he gets this faraway look like he's reminiscing.

"How could I forget? She was my first girlfriend after all, and she set her best friend to kick my ass after I broke up with her… and then two years later she won the Hunger Games. Yup, I remember her. Why do you need a cake for her?" Haymitch chuckles lowly at the story, but then remembers that she killed her best friend and suddenly the story is sadder than it actually is.

"It's going to be her seventeenth birthday today," Madge explains. "And it's really important she has a birthday party. At least, it's important for me. So, can you have a cake done by seven tonight and be at the party? Don't come too fancy, but wear something nice."

"Sure, I'll come. I'll bring the cake too. Is there anything else you'd like to have at the party?"

"Can you have your father make three dozen cheese buns?" Haymitch asks. Peeta and Madge turn to him, eyes raised. He had certainly not mentioned three dozen cheese buns when they were making the preparations, and Madge had asked him countless times if he had wanted to add anything.

"Cheese buns are her family's favorite, they're for after the party," he adds hurriedly. "I'll pay you the same amount as I'll pay the actual store for them if y'all get it all done by tonight and I'll pay your mother triple for everything." Peeta's eyes widen at the medium sized purple pouch of money that he sets in the glass countertop.

"Everything will be ready," he nods finally. Haymitch nods and Madge signs off on the order before they exit the bakery, on their way to the seamstress.

.-.

After a day full of purchases and invitations – Madge had gotten both herself and Ivy hair ties to match their outfits - , they come to a stop at the sweetshop. Taking a deep breath, Haymitch paces outside. Madge had decided it would be best if she went in first and gathered the family, and then he went in and explained everything.

Even still, when the door opens and Madge beckoned him in, he almost had a heart attack. But he had decided when Madge brought up Ivy's birthday that he needed this. He needed to let her family know what was going on, and he needed to ask for this too. They had only three hours until the party started, so he decided to make everything quick.

He explained everything – why she had to get rid of them, why she had been so closed off, why she had been so cruel, why she had never retuned – and then he finally told them of what she had spoken of with the President. As a final part, he explained to them about their relationship.

Ivy's youngest brother, Thicket, yelled at him. Called him a 'pervert' and a 'child molester' and stormed off angrily with vows to ruin Haymitch Abernathy's life. Her oldest sister, Jasmine, is equally disgusted and follows Thicket to go make sure he doesn't hurt himself or somebody in his rage.

But her parents and the rest of her siblings don't react as harsh. Of course they voice their uneasiness about the age difference, but once Madge and Haymitch explain to them everything in less blurred lines, they grudgingly accept the relationship. Of course, they were all more distressed at Ivy being sold for their life sake.

Well all of them except for a girl in the corner with a frown on her mouth. She was sitting on the floor, listening with a furrowed brow. She looked like an exact copy of Ivy – light, blonde locks and sparkling silver eyes – but she looked much angrier than Ivy did. Much angrier and much sadder.

"She deserves it," the girl says coldly. "She deserves what she has coming to her. I hope those men use her within an inch of her life." Haymitch almost stumbles back at the anger in her voice. He wants to say something to her, but he thinks he needs to let her parents speak to her on this matter.

"Cayenne," Ivy's father, Mr. Pagan says sternly. "Sweetheart, you don't mean that. That's your twin, that's your other half. Your Morning sister."

"The Morning sister that abandoned us to save her purity! And now that she's slept around and gave it up easy to her mentor, she isn't so upset about being sold and she wants us to come back. Well I say fuck her. I don't want anything to do with Ivy. Not anymore."

"Cayenne-" Her mother speaks up this time, but Cayenne stands and marches up the stairs, probably to her room. Haymitch and Madge exchange upset glances. They'd really hope the entire family would attend the party, but it might just be better to start small.

After trying – and failing – to call her back, the Pagan parents turn to both Haymitch and Madge.

"We'll be at her birthday party. Thank you, Mr. Abernathy and Miss Undersee for inviting us," Mrs. Pagan says. Haymitch clears his throat and tells Madge to wait for him outside. Then he pulls Ivy's father aside, and whispers something in his ear. The man – that is actually three years younger than Haymitch – grins wildly.

"Yes, Mr. Abernathy. The answer is yes."

-x-

Ivy startles when Madge and Haymitch enter the house. Haymitch immediately rushes into the guest bedroom with certain bags, and puts the others in the kitchen. Madge grabs Ivy's wrist and forces her to the guest bedroom in the bathroom.

"Let's take a shower," Madge says immediately when the door is closed and then she begins undressing. Ivy stares at her wide-eyed before yanking her wrist away in surprise.

"What's gotten into you, Madge? What's going on?" Ivy asks an eyebrow quirked. She places the back of her hand against her friend's forehead with a curious expression, but the other girl laughs.

"I'm sorry, that sounded wrong, I don't mean it in that way. I meant we need to hurry and shower, and you can't leave this room yet because Haymitch is making you something so we're going to share a shower. I promise we don't have to touch or look at each other, but we need to be done really soon so we have to go together."

"What's going on?" Ivy repeats, but begins to remove her shirt and pajama bottoms. Madge turns on the water and turns her back to finish undressing, turning over her shoulder to talk.

"I'm not sure, you know," she lies. "Haymitch just told me not to let you leave this room until seven o' clock, and he said make sure you look decent when you do but not too Capitol."

"I'm very confused," Ivy replies. "But Haymitch is a confusing man so… sure, why not?" It doesn't take long for the girls to shower; they just quickly scrub down and wash their hair. What does take long is finding the perfect outfit for Ivy, seeing as all of her dresses are either too outlandish or not the right color. For some odd reason to Ivy, Madge wants her to wear a dress that's her favorite color.

But soon, they do find a dress. It's a pretty fuchsia color that has a lot of movement in the skirt of it. It twirls and sways like water, but when it goes towards her bodice it tightens around her waist and breasts. And in the back, the neck line dips all the way down to right before her underwear would be revealed. The dress has short sleeves and a bit short as it comes up a ways above her knees. But Ivy fills it out perfectly, and looks beautiful in it.

Madge's dress however, is a pretty light blue color that is more like a sundress. It's crisscrossed in the back, with straps instead of sleeves. They both look really nice in their outfits, and once they both find the right shoes – four inch heels that are the same color of her dress for Ivy, and white flats with a bow on the toes for Madge – they both settle down to do their make-up.

Ivy is adding a matte pink lipstick when Haymitch knocks on the door, donned in a tan button-up and a pair of nice jeans and shoes.

"You look beautiful, Ivy," he says, kissing her forehead. She blushes lightly, seeing as she still wasn't used to him complimenting her. "Madge is supposed to bring you into the living area at seven, everything is set up. Don't worry, sweetheart," he adds before turning to leave. "Nothing will happen." Ivy nods, and doesn't ask questions. If he says nothing is going to happen to her on Madge, then she trusted him.

As the two girls stand in the mirror, Madge begins to tear up. Ivy frowns and turns to look at her, seeing as Madge only cried when she heard of the mine explosions – and everyone cried when they heard of the mine explosions – or when a tribute died.

"I love you, Ivy, you know that right? You're the sister that I – and I know its cliché – never had," she says with a sniffle. Ivy refrains from rolling her eyes because she knows that if Madge is crying, she's serious.

"I love you too, Madge," Ivy glances at the clock. "It's seven now." Madge nods, turns and blindfolds Ivy before leading her into the living room. The birthday only knows they're in the living room because she's memorized the format of this house from top to bottom. In case of emergencies, she needs to know where she is.

"I'm going to remove the blindfold, but don't open your eyes," Madge whispers. When the blindfold is removed, she counts to three before telling Ivy to open her eyes.

"Surprise!" Yells out half of the seam and merchant kids, as well as her family. Ivy screams – believing she's hallucinating – and faints on the spot.


	9. Chapter Eight

**Chapter Eight**

When consciousness returns to the girl, she can hardly believe that everything is actually happening. Her family members – which she abandoned long ago – Haymitch and Madge all hover over her, concern on their faces.

"Sweetheart, are you okay?" Haymitch asks, pulling her up. The kids at the party seem to have forgotten about her seeing as they're all dancing and eating cake as if she wasn't passed out on the grass.

"Here, up, up, up," Madge says, heaving the girl to her feet. Ivy glances around, the realization of what's going on finally hitting her. _My birthday, _she remembers, _I wanted to forget. _Her birthday was a hard reminder of her family and especially her sister, and she had fought to forget it. She thought the amount of alcohol she had been consuming, as well as well as how many cigarettes she had been smoking would give both Haymitch and Madge the hint to just forget about it. But of course they didn't.

"Whose idea was it?" Ivy asks, glancing around. Madge rolls her eyes and plants her hands on her hips.

"Well Haymitch, duh," she says, a big grin on her face. Ivy turns angrily, her eyes flashing, and slaps Haymitch as hard she could.

"How could you? You knew… you _know_… I hate you, Haymitch Abernathy!" She screams, before storming off. Haymitch stands there, a bit stunned before fixing his glare on Madge.

"I told you she wouldn't like it," he growls. "I hate to say I told you so, Undersee." Before marching in the opposite direction. Madge turns to look at Ivy's mother, an upset look on her face.

"Would you mind going after Ivy? And you, can you manage the party? I have to go get Haymitch… I need to go get Haymitch, he's going to recede back into himself and then Ivy is going to… I have to go," Madge huffs, before running off in the direction Haymitch went. Ivy's mother glances at her husband before shrugging and heading into the house that the two Victor's now shared.

-x-

At the sound of hearing her door opening, Ivy tries to staunch the sniffles that were emanating from her. "Go away, Haymitch," she says drily. "I don't want your apologies."

"Well, that's a good thing," her mother replies. "Because he's not here to give them." Ivy whips around, not expecting to hear her mother's voice.

"He betrayed me, mum," she whispers. "I was just trying to protect everyone and bringing them here… it's like he wants our backyard set on fire." Her mother sits next to her, smoothing down the soft blonde curls atop her head.

"Oh my sweet girl," the older woman whispers. "We know how to protect ourselves. I'm very skilled in doing so, actually." Ivy looks at her mother with something akin to amusement.

"Mum, you scream when there's a spider in the kitchen."

"Shh, my dear child this is not about your mother and her great fear of spiders." They both share a small laugh before Mrs. Pagan leans back to look at her daughter closely.

"I grew up with Haymitch. I know that all he's ever done for anyone is try to protect them and make them happy. That's all he wants for you, I'm sure. Now I do not approve of the age difference but I do think he's good for you… you just have to let him be good for you."

"Mum-"

"I will hear no more of it. You will go and apologize to that man. You two will make-up and then we will celebrate your birthday."

"Yes mum."

"That's my girl. Now scamper along, go find your love."

-x-

"Haymitch where are you going?" An exasperated Madge calls after a very frustrated Haymitch Abernathy. He doesn't stop walking but he does turn to walk backwards.

"Somewhere far away so I don't hurt anyone, anymore."

"You didn't hurt her!" Madge argues, running to catch up to him. Haymitch glares at her.

"Says you! Her best friend and the one that planned this whole thing. She hates me because of your idea."

"She doesn't hate you."

"She does!"

"Haymitch stop you're acting like a baby. Listen to me, and act like the forty-two-year-old you are," Madge demands. He stops walking, shoving his hands into his pockets.

"What?"

"Look, I know Ivy. And she does love you. She's just scared. We're all scared. We're kids, Haymitch. You have to remember we're still kids. And we're absolutely terrified. I know I am. We don't know what to do with ourselves… and she's more scared of losing those important to her. You have to give her time to adjust. Now that she knows she has nothing to lose… she's got to get used to having her family back. Do you understand?"

"Of course I bloody understand! I went through the same thing she's going through! Are you fucking stupid Madge? I get that she's scared. I… I guess I am too. I finally got something good and Snow… I don't know. I'm scared too. I can't ruin that girl like I ruined myself. I can't let her grow in my hatred and anger."

"I know, Haymitch," a softer voice answers. During his rant Ivy had appeared around the corner and ran to catch to them in the middle of the Village. She shrugs and wrings her hands and glances around, but she nods her head too. "I know."

"I shouldn't have lashed out like that. I was upset and I saw my family. I trained myself to think they represented danger, you know? That if I was around my family, they would die."

"I understand, sweetheart," Haymitch says, reaching out to her. She allows herself to embrace him, breathing in his scent and melting in his arms. She would not cry now, she would wait until they were alone in his room to do that. But she would let reality fall away for a small while Haymitch hugged her.

It all comes crashing back in when Madge clears her throat. "So, the party is back on?" She asks. Haymitch goes to object, but Ivy nods.

"I think I can stand for some cake."

**A/N: Short chappy, I know and I'm sorry. Most of my writing is on hiatus as I work on a 24/24 collaboration (check out my charcater Sans the D6 boy The Fifteenth Hunger Games: Fallen Leaves and leave reviews for the other writers too) but I promise, Hallucination isn't over and neither is Bound To You. I have two very special endings for both of these stories. Alright, peace out!**


	10. Chapter Nine

**Chapter Nine**

The year after Ivy's birthday party passes by in such a flurry that she is unready when the Quarter Quell announcement comes around. Her family – excluding a certain few members who had chosen to stay behind and run the shop – had moved into her home next door while she remained with Haymitch. They'd seemed ready to forgive and forget and push their past in the shadows. Ivy had no problems with that, and Haymitch wasn't opposed either.

In fact, things get so comfortable that Ivy begins to get paranoid. She had her life go good for too long now, she knew something was in the wakes.

And of course, the blonde was right.

-x-

"I don't know, Haymitch," Ivy whispers to her lover at night. They were wrapped in their blankets, shielding themselves from the cold of the winter. Haymitch sighs.

"You're being paranoid."

"Like I don't have a right to be?" she snorts.

"I'm not saying you don't have a right to be paranoid, princess," he sighs. "I'm just saying that you're finding a problem where there is none. You're trying to make your life awful because you're scared of being happy."

"And when did you get so philosophical?" Ivy asks, turning to face him. She could barely see him the darkness, but she reaches up blindly to touch his face anyways.

"When you started taking my job of being the insane one," he replies. She slaps his bare chest and he chuckles, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "I'm kidding, sweetheart."

"And I'm not, Haymitch. I'm serious, I don't have a good feeling about the quell."

"And you shouldn't," he says. "Look, I'm not saying whatever the Quell has in store will be good or healthy. I'm just trying to tell you not to over think it. Let's try to hope for the best."

"Hope doesn't exist, Haymitch. You said it yourself."

"I said that before I started sleeping with you," he points out. Ivy shrugs. He might just be right. Maybe the Quell wouldn't impact them hard this year. Maybe she was just over thinking things. Or at least, that's what she tells herself so she could sleep.

-x-

"In honor that even those of blood to the strongest are not above the reaping; only family members of Victor's shall be reaped. All family members included." It settles in her mother's brain before it settles in anybody else's. Mrs. Pagan grabs Ivy's hand, a worried expression on her face. The Quell didn't have an age limit. Ivy could very well mentoring her father or her youngest brother. Either way, there was a very high possibility that two of her family members wouldn't make it out of the arena alive. Especially considering the other Victor's siblings and parents.

"I'm sorry," Ivy chokes out, finally, glancing towards her father. His face was marble, as he showed no expression. Thicket stands and rushes to the trash can, emptying his stomach of that nights meal. Everyone had mixed expressions. Some looked horrified or shocked, but most of the occupants in the room were angry. Ivy doesn't even jump when Haymitch launches his liquor bottle at the wall.

"You!" Cayenne yells. Usually she would be at the sweetshop, but she had joined her family for the Quell viewing. "You did this!"

"I'm sorry!" Ivy shouts back. "I just wanted to come home… I didn't know it would affect you all in the long run! I'm sorry, Cayenne!"

"You wanted this!" Her twin rages, flipping a chair over. "You dragged us back in your life so we could die! I hate you!"

"Don't say that!"

"Why not? Because it's true!? You basically just signed all of our death certificates. Placed targets on our backs, you did!"

"I said I was sorry," Ivy whimpers, fighting off the tears welling in her eyes. This isn't what she'd wanted. All she had wanted was to have her family be safe from harms way. All she wanted was to protect them.

"No you're not," Cayenne snaps coldly, before turning on her heel and storming out the house. The whole place shakes when she slams the door behind her. Ivy shakes, unable to remove her gaze from the door. She only stops looking when Haymitch envelopes her in his arms. Uncontrollably, Ivy sobs. It seemed as if everything she loved, everything she had ever held close had been snatched from her. First Faustinus, then Gale… and now two of her family members.

The realization makes her grip Haymitch's shirt tighter. She couldn't lose him too. Ivy knew that if she lost Haymitch, her sanity would be gone. Haymitch kept her level, and he kept her alive.

"I love you, sweetheart," he murmurs into her hair. "It'll be okay. I love you_._" _Lies_, Ivy thinks. _All lies._ _Nothing will ever be okay in my life._

-x-

She's curled up on their bed when her oldest sister, Jasmine enters. Jasmine was the polar opposite of Ivy, in looks and personality.

Instead of blonde locks and grey eyes, Jasmine had long short dark hair and shining blue eyes. Whereas Ivy was an emotional person as well as very unbalanced, Jasmine was very sane and level-headed, never letting her emotions cloud her thoughts.

"Ivy, look at me," her sister commands. Through her tears, Ivy obeys. Jasmine had never looked so sad in her life. "I want you to buck up and get your shit together. This is not your fault."

"Jasmine, you and I both know it is! I should have just died in that arena!"

"But you didn't, did you? You fought and you came home. You earned your right to life, now live it. Twenty-three children didn't die for you to abuse your right. Now it may not be me going into that arena… I just want you to know I don't blame you. You couldn't have possibly know what would happen after you win. You didn't ask for this to happen. I don't blame you, sis."

"But everyone else does," she spits bitterly. "Especially Cayenne."

"Cayenne feels like you abandoned her. She's hurt. It's probably best you talk to her," Jasmine advises. Ivy can tell she's trying really hard to make things better, so she nods. She didn't want to stress her sister out any further. The last thing she needed, in a situation like this.

Ivy stands and makes her way downstairs where Haymitch had passed out hours ago. After turning him on his side so he doesn't choke on his own vomit, she leaves the warmth of the house to go find her sister.

It doesn't take long to seek out Cayenne. She's at the sweet shop, screaming and overturning things as she cries. When she sees Ivy in the doorway, she glares.

"Come to finish me off, have you?"

"I'm not a murderer," Ivy blinks.

"Sure you aren't. Tell that to the pretty rascal from 4 that you murdered."

"I did what I had to do to survive, Cayenne. You know this."

"Was leaving us to starve while you went to go live in your pretty house with your pedophilic boyfriend surviving too?"

"Yes, actually, it was. I was trying to keep you all alive. You don't understand-"

"What's there to understand, Ivy? Because I think I get it perfectly well! You left us so you wouldn't have to deal with the burden of providing for us."

"That's not why I left you!" Ivy shouts, snapping. Cayenne stumbles back, staring at her sister.

"Then why?"

"Haymitch told me what happens to Victors with families. He told me what happened to his family. I didn't want you all to be at risk, I didn't want my ties with you to get you hurt. I certainly didn't want… this," I say, allowing my hands to rise and fall uselessly by my sides. "All I ever wanted was to protect you. I swear."

"So you left us," Cayenne whispers. Waves of realization wash over her face and she looks back up at me. "You left us… to keep us safe?"

"Complicated huh? That's all my life ever is now. A complicated mess. I love Haymitch, but I'm scared I'll lose him. Madge is my best friend, but I just up her reaping chances by two by knowing her. I need you all in my life, but I don't want to hurt you. Never, do I ever, want to hurt you. I'm sorry I put you all in this mess by winning. I'm sorry I didn't just die."

"I'm sorry too. I spent all those months being angry at you because you were carbon copy of myself and I didn't like being away from you. I didn't like hearing your screams at night… and when Haymitch came to us last year saying that he had been with you all that time… I felt so much hatred that you didn't let me help you, instead letting some man you didn't know soothe your terrors. I didn't understand, and I hated it. I hated not knowing. I'm sorry I didn't try to listen."

"Well I guess that makes the both of us assholes, doesn't it?" Ivy asks, giving a sad smile. "Now people really know you're my twin."

"Yeah, they do, don't they. Well, don't I look stupid."

"Not at all. But we should probably clean up."

"That would be wise," Cayenne agrees, picking up the cash register she had knocked over. "We're going to have to spend a lot of money to get this fixed."

"I have it to spare," Ivy replies. Probably not the best thing to say on her part, but Cayenne shakes her head clear of the angry thoughts that begin to bubble to the surface. She was beginning to get too tired to argue with her sister.

Instead, she shrugs. "I don't think dad will be alright with you lending us money."

"I'm not lending you anything. I'm not even giving it to you. It's your money just as much as it's mine," Ivy murmurs. Cayenne rolls her eyes.

"Whatever you say, sis."

Meanwhile, back at Victor's Village, Haymitch had been pulled aside by Mrs. Pagan, and they are currently outside in the winter snow. She's chewing her lip nervously as he paces, and she hardly flinches when he flips over the snow-coated lawn chair in her daughter's backyard.

"Do you think they've forgotten?" She asks eventually, when he's done raging. Haymitch's eyes flutter closed as he tries to control his breathing, tries to calm down.

"One can only hope. What all does the boy know?" He asks, taking the coat she's holding out to him. In his rage, he'd forgotten to grab a jacket but the goosebumps on his arms were clearly protesting that.

"I'm not sure. He doesn't stop by often, just occasionally with his new friend. Haymitch, how long are you going to wait and tell Ivy?" Mrs. Pagan asks, an eyebrow raised. She glances around nervously to make sure there are no extra listeners, seeing as she'd prefer to keep this secret between herself and Haymitch. Nobody else needed to know... yet.

"Tell Ivy what? That her ex-boyfriend is my son and I've very quite possibly just put his life on the linehere ? Tell Ivy that there was a possibility that I could have wound up being her _father-in-law_ if she hadn't of won. Yeah, that'll sell real well with your borderline insane daughter," he snips. Mrs. Pagan rolls her eyes.

"I'm not saying it's a good idea, I'm just saying she needs to know. If she sees Gale being forced into the reaping, she'll think it's because of her. I can't very well tell her she slept with her brother because Gale looks nothing like us. You have to confess, tell her before she goes insane with thinking there are more people that she's risked."

"Gale was an accident," Haymitch breathes, more so to himself than to his lovers mother. He wanted himself to know that it was an accident. He never meant to get Hazelle knocked up, never mean to betray Fedaline like that. It had been a drunken, mis-directed accident that happened almost twenty years ago.

"So was Ivy and Cayenne. It happens, Haymitch. But she needs to know it's not her fault if Gale appears at the reaping," Mrs. Pagan says wisely.

"I'll tell her," Haymitch agrees. "Just not now. If they remember that he's mine, I'll tell her. If not, then I'll keep her in the dark. What she doesn't know won't hurt her."

"Oh but Haymitch you have to remember," Mrs. Pagan says tiredly, turning on her heel to go back inside. "What's done in the dark always comes to the light."

**Another short chapter to accompany the previous one. Well at least it's double-whammy, eh? Alright, move on with your life.**


End file.
